


hide under the sheets with me

by vityenka



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Canon Compliant, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Domestic Fluff, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mostly porn though, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Supportive Katsuki Yuuri, Supportive Victor Nikiforov, They love each other so much, Top Katsuki Yuuri, maybe it's half and half
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25739038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityenka/pseuds/vityenka
Summary: Getting used to St. Petersburg isn't so bad when Yuuri's with Viktor. But, sometimes you have to lend a hand.or: viktor has taken on too much and yuuri is there to help
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 142





	hide under the sheets with me

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi! i'm sorry i haven't posted, although how can i apologize when i used to update once every 3 years? 
> 
> i've been super busy! i'm moving into my first apartment, getting ready for the start of university, my new job at said university, and my new position on the board of my university's lgbtq club! ahhhhh! i've been writing sporadically but i haven't written anything i deem worthy of posting quite yet, except for this which was written in two hours. sigh. i hope you enjoy though! this was a lot of fun to write <3
> 
> ps: title is from panic attack by the vaccines! it's a great song and i highly recommend it.

Landing in Russia takes a long time. It feels like days since Yuuri has taken a proper shower or eaten real food, since sleeping in a real bed or walking on pavement. It’s been actual days since skating. He hasn’t had time to set foot on the ice with all the last minute packing and planning he had to do to make it to St. Petersburg before Four Continents. There’s a month until then, but Viktor wanted time to get into a routine together. Plus, Yuuri is jetlag’s bitch. 

It’s dark out when the plane lands on the tarmac. Yuuri’s knees crack and his back pops when he stands from his seat, grabs his carry on and shuffles out with everyone else. His phone takes awhile to load all the messages, and one after another floods in as he walks towards baggage claim. Viktor will be waiting at the end. Almost as if he read Yuuri’s mind, a text from Viktor pings on his phone. 

_ Vitya <3:  _ yuuuuuri i’m here! i have food and coffee. 

Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief and texts back a line of hearts. As he walks the long way to baggage claim, he texts his family to let them know he’s arrived, though they probably won’t be reading it quite yet; it’s only four in the morning in Hasetsu. He pockets his phone finally after sending Phichit a text. As he draws nearer, he sees a head of silver hair and speeds up. 

“Vitya!” He calls, hurrying around a small clump of people surrounding a map, waving to his fiancee. Viktor turns, spots him, and runs over, arms open. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor cries as they crash into each other. Yuuri buries his face in Viktor’s neck, the sweet smell of his soap and Viktor flooding his senses. “I missed you  _ so much,”  _ Viktor whispers. He runs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, fingers getting tangled in the knots that formed during the plane ride. 

Yuuri sighs and squeezes Viktor tight. “I missed you, too.” 

-

Viktor’s apartment is exactly as Yuuri remembers from the spread done about it in a magazine a few years ago. The cold blues and grays are soft on his tired eyes, but he wonders how much time Viktor really spends here. There’s a jacket draped across the sofa where Makkachin is curled up, until Yuuri comes in. She thumps her tail excitedly, too tired to stand. He ruffles her soft fur and squeezes her face a few times for good measure, dropping kisses on her head. “Hi Makka. I missed you,” he coos. She licks his face and lays her head back down. Viktor comes up behind him and nuzzles into his neck. 

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor whines into his neck. “Bedtime.”

“Where should I…?” Yuuri looks around for a spot to put his bags, and Viktor grabs them before he has a moment to overthink. 

“Bedroom,” Viktor replies simply. He leads Yuuri through the hall, past a bathroom he points out, and into the large master bedroom. This is the only room that looks truly lived in, clothes strewn all over in a particularly un-Viktor fashion. The sheets are rumpled, a pair of reading glasses on the nightstand, along with Viktor’s reusable water bottle. Viktor drops Yuuri’s things by the closet.

Turning to Yuuri, Viktor cups Yuuri’s face. “Unpack in the morning, okay?” He plants a kiss on the bridge of Yuuri’s nose. “Sleep now.” Yuuri smiles and loops his arms around Viktor’s neck. 

“Take me to bed, then.” Viktor’s nose flushes a bright pink, but he swings Yuuri over his shoulder nonetheless. Yuuri squeaks and hangs on for dear life, until Viktor drops him onto the springy mattress. “Vitya!” 

“You  _ said  _ to take you to bed,” Viktor replies. He promptly throws himself down beside Yuuri and pulls him close. “I did what you told me.” Yuuri squirms out of his shirt and pants, shoes and socks, and turns in Viktor’s arms. 

“Good boy,” he says. Before he can register the blush on Viktor’s face, he’s asleep. 

-

The next week is a blur of unpacking and skating. Viktor shows him all over St. Petersburg during their early morning runs, then drives him to the point of exhaustion at the rink. Yuuri’s feet ache at the end of the day, and he ends up taking the bus back to the apartment before Viktor’s done with practice. He’s getting quite good at Russian public transport. Makkachin gets her walk in before Viktor gets home, then another after the two of them have dinner. 

It isn’t bad, but sometimes Yuuri’s stomach twists in knots as he watches Viktor work himself to the bone to do right by both of them. Yakov has taken to giving Yuuri feedback when Viktor is practicing to save them both the stress. If Viktor fails, Yuuri will blame himself. It won’t be Viktor’s fault. How could it be? He took time off to help  _ Yuuri,  _ who selfishly asked Viktor to give up his career and his life. Then Yuuri asked him to come back, after nearly a year away. If he fails, it will be no one else’s fault but Yuuri’s. 

Viktor seems to sense the shift in his attitude two weeks before Four Continents. Yuuri gets chilly even with the heat cranked up, and he’s burrowed in Viktor’s sweater as he watches people walk along the Neva below. Viktor comes up behind him, Yuuri’s favorite teacup in his hands. “Yuuri?” 

“Mm?” Yuuri hums, not looking away from the water. The streetlamps cast a glow along the current, lighting it up all shades of gold. Viktor perches on the windowsill beside him, tucks his feet under his thighs and rests a hand on Yuuri’s leg. 

“What’s wrong, darling?” Yuuri drags himself away from the colors playing across the water to look at Viktor. There are light bags under his eyes, his hair is still dripping from his shower, curling in the warm apartment. He sighs, and takes Viktor’s hand in his, Viktor’s long fingers threading between his own. 

“I’m worried you’ve taken on too much,” he admits. It’s hard, too, with how badly Viktor seems to want to do both. Yuuri doesn’t want to make it seem like Viktor’s doing a bad job, but he’s struggling. Viktor frowns at Yuuri’s admission. 

“Am I neglecting you?” Viktor asks, voice soft and a furrow between his brow. “I’ll do better, Yuuri.”

“No,” Yuuri shakes his head. “Vitya, you’re doing great. I’m just…I don’t want you to suffer trying to do right by me.” It’s quiet for a moment.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, “You were the one who asked me to come back.” 

“I know,” Yuuri replies. “I’m not…I don’t  _ regret  _ that, Vitya.” He takes a breath and looks down at their joined hands. “I’m just…if you get hurt or don’t do well, it’ll be my fault for asking you to do all of this in the first place.” 

“I see,” Viktor says. He runs his thumb over Yuuri’s ring. “Yuuri, if I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t.” 

“But is it good for you to coach  _ and  _ compete?” 

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Do you not want me to compete?” 

“No!” Yuuri rubs his forehead in frustration. “I don’t want you to take on too much and suffer for it.” 

“So, what’s your solution then?” Viktor looks a bit like he’s holding back on his attitude. Yuuri reaches for him, holds his other hand. 

“To let Yakov take me on, too. You can co-coach me with him.” Viktor opens his mouth, but Yuuri cuts him off. “You’re still my coach, but this way you’ll be able to focus more on yourself and worry less about everything else.” He swallows. “Please, Vitya. You’re killing yourself taking all of this on.” 

Viktor stares down at their hands, gnawing on his lip. “I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers. 

“What?” 

Viktor looks out the window. He blinks several times and his eyes look suspiciously shiny. “If I fail, you’ll leave.” Yuuri stares at him for a moment until it clicks. 

“Vitya,  _ no.  _ I’m not going anywhere.” He turns Viktor’s face back to his. “I don’t care what happens! I don’t care if you win every medal or none. I don’t care if…if you don’t want to do this at all, if you want to just be a stay at home poodle dad. Vitya, I don’t  _ care!  _ I  _ love  _ you.” Viktor swallows heavily, eyes searching Yuuri’s face. 

Yuuri suddenly has an armful of weepy fiancee. “Yuuri,” Viktor chokes. “I love you so much.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri insists. He runs his fingers through Viktor’s hair and holds him close. “I’ll never leave.” 

“Promise?” Viktor whispers. Yuuri shifts so he can look Viktor in the eye, watery blue eyes staring back at him. 

“I promise.” 

Viktor draws him into a kiss. It’s salty, Viktor’s tears wet on his lips but he cups Yuuri’s face with trembling hands. “I love you,” Viktor whispers into the space between them when they draw back for air. Yuuri breathes it back and Viktor pulls him close again, Yuuri’s hand cupping the back of Viktor’s neck. He fingers the short hair at Viktor’s nape, twirls the fine silver hair between his fingers. 

“Will you let Yakov co-coach?” Yuuri asks the next time they pause for air. Viktor licks his lips. 

“Yes,” Viktor says. “As long as I’m your  _ favorite  _ coach.” Yuuri laughs and kisses him again. 

“You’re my favorite person,” he replies. “Is that good?” 

Viktor sighs dramatically and rubs their noses together. “I suppose.” The next time they kiss, Viktor’s mouth opens under his. Yuuri pulls him up and takes his hand.

“Bedroom?” he asks, looking up at Viktor’s messy hair and kiss-swollen lips. His eyes are bright as he looks at Yuuri and nods. Yuuri leads them through the apartment into the dim bedroom, the floors cleaner than when he arrived and bed made. He pushes Viktor back onto the soft linens and climbs on top. 

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuri murmurs. Viktor’s cheeks are dusted pink and he smiles up at Yuuri. Viktor runs his thumb along the curve of Yuuri’s jaw, mouth parted around a soft sigh. 

“Will you make love to me, Yuuri?” Viktor asks softly, blue eyes shining. “I miss you inside me.” Yuuri swallows thickly and nods, leaning down to kiss Viktor again. Their mouths move together, Yuuri tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Viktor moans quietly when Yuuri bites his lip and they draw apart. Together, they pull Viktor’s shirt over his head. Yuuri’s sweater follows, falling on the floor in a pile along with their pants and underwear. Viktor lays underneath him, naked and melting into the sheets. Yuuri runs his hands down the length of his body, marveling at the hardest and softest places that make up Viktor Nikiforov. 

His hips are softer after the season off, but he holds raw power in every part of him. His jumps are strong, thighs flexing and showing off just what they can do under Yuuri’s palms. Viktor constantly praises Yuuri’s thighs, but Yuuri thinks Viktor’s are a masterpiece. Viktor and Phichit have compared notes about how Yuuri’s thighs could kill a man. Yuuri, personally, wouldn’t mind dying from Viktor’s choking him out. Viktor is silent as Yuuri explores his body, looking quietly pleased over the attention. Slowly, Yuuri makes his way down Viktor’s body to where his half-hard cock lies against his thigh, slowly thickening under Yuuri’s heavy gaze. 

“Gorgeous,” Yuuri whispers as he takes Viktor in hand. The weight of his cock is familiar and Yuuri runs his thumb over the tip, drawing back the foreskin to thumb the slit. Fully hard now, Viktor is beginning to leak into Yuuri’s hand, a small pool of precum forming. Yuuri leans down to taste, the flavor equally as familiar as the feel. Yuuri has neutral opinions about the taste overall, but he loves it because it’s Viktor. It smells, tastes and feels of the man Yuuri loves, so he enjoys it in a way he enjoys very few other things. He can skate  _ Eros  _ because of this man. 

So, he takes Viktor’s hard cock into his mouth and enjoys it. Viktor whines above him, the hand wearing his ring over his mouth and cheeks flushed a rosy red. The other hand finds its way into Yuuri’s hair at the back of his head, holding him as Yuuri opens further for Viktor’s cock. He takes Viktor in as far as he can, nose brushing the groomed, silvery pubic hair at the base. Viktor groans, head thrown back and hair splayed across the sheets in a silver halo. His hips buck and Yuuri rests a hand on his trembling thigh. Yuuri looks up through his lashes and finds Viktor staring back. He pulls off a bit, bobbing his head until Viktor thrusts again. When he does, Yuuri glances up and angles his head, hoping it says:  _ Go ahead. Fuck my mouth.  _

Viktor clenches the hand holding Yuuri’s head, levers himself up on his elbow, and thrusts again. Yuuri lets out a strangled moan. “Fuck,” Viktor gasps. He fucks up into the wet heat of Yuuri’s mouth, thighs shaking on either side of Yuuri’s head. “Oh god, can I?  _ Yuuri,”  _ he whines. Yuuri nods the best he can, grasps tight on Viktor’s hip and groans. 

From there, it’s simple. Viktor thrusts fast and shallow, fucking into Yuuri’s mouth. He whines, low and long, cheeks a bright pink and digs his heels into the floor. “Wait,” Viktor hiccups as he slows to a stop. “I want…I want you to fuck me,” he manages. Yuuri pulls off Viktor’s cock. 

“Anything you want,” he rasps. Viktor groans and Yuuri climbs up onto the bed to kiss him, sloppy from the drool and lust. Their teeth clack together as Yuuri shoves Viktor up the bed until he’s laid back on the pillows. Yuuri grabs their lube from the night stand and drapes himself across Viktor. 

“Open your legs,” he murmurs into Viktor’s mouth. Viktor complies readily and Yuuri pours a healthy amount of lube over his fingers, warming them up as he reaches down and circles his thumb around Viktor’s rim. Viktor shudders and flops his head back, baring his neck for Yuuri to bite and suck at. He leaves marks as he slowly pushes one finger inside, the tight heat overwhelming him before he’s even inside Viktor. It’s been weeks since they’ve had the chance for anything beside quick handjobs. 

He swallows a moan as he slowly thrusts his finger, adding another and repeating the process until he can comfortably fit three. Viktor shakes under him, whimpering as Yuuri brushes past his prostate over and over. “Yuuri,” he whimpers. “Please, please.” 

“Please what, Vitya?” Yuuri mouths against his neck. 

“Fuck me,” Viktor chokes as Yuuri brushes past that bundle of nerves again. “ _ Yuuri!”  _

Yuuri hums and presses a soft kiss to Viktor’s jaw. “Whatever you want,” he says. “You’re doing so good, Vitya.” Viktor’s blush reaches his chest, spreading out in a lovely red bloom. Yuuri sits up, splaying the hand not inside Viktor across the flat of his stomach. “Keep your legs open for me,” he instructs as he withdraws his fingers. Viktor whines quietly but nods. 

Yuuri slicks his cock up while Viktor holds his position. His pupils are blown wide, dark circles ringed blue as he follows the movement of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri crawls back between Viktor’s legs, sliding a hand to hold Viktor’s hip while the other guides his cock to Viktor’s hole. “You ready?” he asks. 

“Yes,” Viktor replies, voice wrecked. His hair is sticking to his forehead. Yuuri presses in slowly and Viktor grabs Yuuri’s shoulder, digging his nails in. The slide is tight and Yuuri gives himself a moment to breathe. Viktor’s squirming doesn’t help, his panting and scrabbling for Yuuri to press deeper. “Love you,” Viktor gasps. “Love you so much. Love your cock. God,  _ Yuuri,”  _ he moans. Yuuri bottoms out, breathing through the tight heat all around him. It’s overwhelming, Viktor is  _ everywhere.  _ It’s so good, too. Viktor hooks his legs around Yuuri’s lower back, ankles crossing together to keep Yuuri where he is, and then Viktor  _ grinds.  _ Yuuri lets out a moan and drops his head down onto Viktor’s shoulder, shaking as Viktor works himself down onto Yuuri’s cock. 

“You feel so good,” Yuuri gasps out. Viktor does something with his hips that results in Yuuri’s hips snapping forward. Viktor whines loudly and does it again until Yuuri begins fucking into him in earnest. It’s like all the breath’s been punched out of him, he can barely breathe for how good Viktor feels. The tight ripple of muscle around his cock is sending him hurtling towards his orgasm way too quickly and he wraps his hand around Viktor’s straining cock. 

“ _ Yuuri!”  _ Viktor cries, fucking up into the tight fist of Yuuri’s hand, precum leaking profusely over Yuuri’s knuckles. “Fuck, oh  _ god,”  _ Viktor loops his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders until Yuuri’s completely covering him with his body. It’s hard to move his hand in this position, but he fists Viktor’s cock hard and fast, the red flushed, leaking head of it creating a delicious slide that leaves Viktor trembling. “I’m--I’m gonna--” Yuuri twists his hand at Viktor’s choked off gasp and he spills hot and thick over Yuuri’s knuckles, white stripes painting both their bellies. Viktor clenches down on Yuuri’s cock as he comes and Yuuri  _ explodes.  _

It goes white behind his eyelids and he growls as he comes, back arching and thighs shaking. Viktor moans loud and scrabbles at his shoulders, heels digging in hard to Yuuri’s lower back. As Yuuri comes down, Viktor practically melts into the bed, all loose-limbed and fucked out. 

“I felt you,” Viktor murmurs quietly as Yuuri comes back to himself. “I felt you come.” He flops his arm over his face and pants against Yuuri’s hair. 

“Mmmmph,” Yuuri replies. Viktor laughs, a loud and loose thing. 

“Fair enough, darling.” Viktor presses a kiss to the top of his head, and when Yuuri pulls out, he gets half-hard again at the sight of his cum leaking out of Viktor. 

“Shower,” Yuuri mumbles. 

Viktor reaches down and strokes Yuuri’s sensitive cock. “Sounds like a good idea.” 

-

The next day, they approach Yakov about coaching Yuuri. All he says is, "Finally." 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it? like i said, i had fun with this! one day i'll write the kinky fic i dream of writing, but until then have some good old fashioned loving sex. let me know what you think in the comments! reading them makes me so happy. 
> 
> see you next level or next fic! <333


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